vamose . iN ir
R HI
CHAPTER Vl.-fContinued.)
Lady KeotoD and her brother have been
invited to dine at Carronby House on
Christmas Day. and it ia not nntil Christ
mas Dav that Gladys mecu Jeoimie after
llieir mutual understanding. She ha
watched for him each morning since, but
he baa watched in vain. The only sign
she haa received that he remember her
is conveyed by a basket of Christmas
rosea, which she finds in her room on the
evening of that day. A she fastens some
of the pure, waxen-looking, white flow
ers, with their golden petals, in her hair
and bosom, she wonders why her lingers
tremble, and laughs nervously as she
catches a reflection of her flushed and
agitated features in the mirror.
"Poor, dear Jenimie," she thinks, "I
shall be glad when this meeting is over,
for his sake. I dare say he is nervous.
Boys are so foolish: but he will feel better
afterward, and then we can go on in the
old way again."
She is relieved when she descends to
the dining-room to find it full of guests,
and Lady Kenton and Mr. Brooke among
them. She haa to apologize for ber late
appearance, and her fluttered manner and
uneasy laugh pass muster as excuses.
She dare not lift her eyes to Jemmie'
face, but she colors brightly under the
pressure of his hand when he cornea for
ward to greet her. and the Christmas
roses in her bosom rise and fall like living
things.
"Are yon glad to see nie. Gladys?" he
whispers.
She does not answer, but her nreast
heaves, and her while teeth clinch them
selves UKin her lower lip to hide its trem
bling. Mr. Brooke regards her in silence,
and interprets her agitation aright.
"My darling." he says in a low voice,
as he leads her into the dining-room.
After this the Christmas dinner passes,
for two people there at lens!, like a trou
bled dream. Gladys eats nothing, and
her band shakes so she can hardly keep
up the semblance of eating.
"I have not thanked you yet. Jemmie,
for your roses. You see, I hope, that I
am wearing them, and I like them more
than all my other presents put together,"
she says, when later they find themselves
together again.
"Had 1 dared I would have sent you
something better," he replies.
"You could not, had you tried. Yon
know you have taught me yourself to love
flowerB. It would sc. n silly. So I am
going to ask you to take this," she says,
in rather a timid manner, as she holds out
a ring set with a single djamond, to him.
"and wear it in remembrance of this
Christmas Day."
T thank you for the thought, Gladys,"
be answers; "but I would rather not."
"Mountcarron did not give it to nie,"
returns Gladys, quickly. "It was a pres
ent from my father on my sixteenth birth
day, and i wore it till till last July.
Please take it, Jemmie. I wore it for
three years, and I would like to think
you wore it now."
"If that is the case 1 will accept it,"
replies Mr. Brooke, gravely, drawing the
ring upon his little finger, "and it is need
less to tell you I shall value it, Gladys.
I need something to comfort me," he con
tinues, raising his weary eyes to hers,
"for I am going away."
"Going away! Where?" she asks, in
dismay.
i "I have decided to go tip to London,
and study for the bar. I think I have
told you it was the profession for which
my father intended me. And it is one
hickily for me which a man may enter
at any age."
"But you have no need of a profes
sion," says Gladys, breathlessly. "Y'ou
had relinquished all thoughts of embrac
ing one. What has made you alter your
decision V
"Can you ask me. Gladys?"
"I mean why should you not stay at
Nutley, as you have always done? There
is plenty to occupy you there, if you want
occupation?"
"Because Nutley is too near Carronby
he answers, simply. "Besides I have I
more need of a profession now than ever.
1 must have something to divert my
thoughts, and I know of nothing better
than hard work. I ought not to have
come here to-night, Gladys. I am too
weak even to stand in your presence. I
should not have done so, had it not been
for the last time."
Her eyes seek his like those of a fright
ened fawn. She hears nothing knows
nothing except that he is about to leave
her.
"Oh, Jemmie!" she exclaims, patheti
cally; "don't go. Don't leave me alone.
Y'ou are the only friend I care for in the
world." . .
He raises his eyes very weary and
languid they look, as if he were tired of
fighting with bimself,' but very full of
passion and fixes them upon her plead
ing face.
"Will you take the responsibility of my
staying on yourself, Gladys?"
She does not understand the full mean
ing of his words, but if she did she would
answer just as boldly. It is her nature
to be reckless, and ber education haa
Bade her more so.
"Tea, I will take nil the responsibility
if you win stay, and I wilt be answerable
for nothing if you go away. You are my
only friend and adviser. If yon leave
me I aball go all wrong, and poison
Monntcarron. or . do aomething awful.
Oh, Jemmie! promise me tbat you will
atay."
' "I do promtae," he replies. "Heaven
forgive me if I ant wrong td do so, but
yon have broken down all my resolution
a ad atade roe weak a water. For good
ar Car trU. G lady a, will etay.".
- 'cdit,', u ..
.aft fa I the CHftWfa Fk aaeaet
tuHj. The goettt of Carroaby atsttt
r.iaatvw wrf MaV aaeia cad act-
t TOjra , May BMW
-i l (bmaflj . It haa haw aataat
' cJ tar ftMtCr Oladni feat aat
it
love ber husband. That fact is nothing
new. But she has never openly expressed
! her indifference, nor evinced a palpable
dislike to him. And now she does.
Mr. Brooke has not taken up his resi
dence again at Carronby, but be walks.
or rides, over there every day. and be
never leaves Gladys in ignorance of
here he may Is? found. It does nof
strike either of them that these meetings
are very like clandestine ones. So it is
not remarkable that, as Lady Mountcar-
ron. looking charmingly girlish and dain
ty, wrapsd in her costly fur, trips down
the path that leads to Moonlight Dell,
she should come ujsin Mr. Brooke, ar
rayed in brown velveteen and kuh'ker
boi kers, with bis gun in his band, send
ing by the side of the pond, and gaz.Lg
thoughtfully into the water.
"What are you dreaming of. Jemmie?"
she asks, as she reaches his side and slips
her hand through his arm. He presses
the little hand fondly and answers:
"Wondering if I should not tie wiser to
throw myself into that water and end
all my troubles at once, Gladys?"
He has drawn her to bim. and thrown
his arm around her shoulders. So they
stand sheltered from observation from
the house by the rising ground on either
side and he holds her closely to bim,
looking down into her lovely face.
"Sometimes." she says, with a shiver,
"I wonder if anything is worth the life I
lead. The title, or the fortune, or auy of
the possession for Rhich you say we
girls would sell our souls. But I did not
know then what I know now. I did not
believe the world could hold anything 1
should value more."
"And does it, Gladys?" he whispered.
"You know it does."
He bends bis handsome boyish face
close to hers. She sees the tender light
kindling in his eyes as Ins lips draw near
er to her own. and yet she does not shrink
from bim nor draw ber lips away. And
then he lay his tiw.t't r ana a an in
fant's, in ri. :: mid sensitive as a wom
an's, Hire u I in st as a girl's upon her
mouth, and presses on it his first kiss of
love. It lasts but a m. .infill, but it
seals their fate. They will never go back
to friendship now. Gladys says nothing;
but she lays her head down on his shoul
der, and wishes it could last forever.
Her companion, too, is silent ns herself.
But. after a while, he says, in a low tone
of happiness:
"You love me, darling?"
"Oh, yes. 1 love you! What is the
good of denying it? Yon must have
guessed it long .-.go. But it can never be
any more than love between us. Jemmie.
so the less we s-uk of it the better."
"Y'ou must either be mine, or I must
leave yon altogether. You must give up
Mountcnrron, or you must give up me."
" lh, Jemmie!"
"The time is past for my promises or
your reproaches, Gladys. You have tor
tured me long enough, and, once for all,
I will endure it no longer. Ifo you sup
pose I am going to live my life as a
hanger-on at Carronby House, wronging
my cousin with every look I give you,
every word I ntter? No! I have courage
to take yon from him. to wrest you from
his arms, and defy him to do his worst,
for your love is mine, and love gives ra
the right to you; but what I do hence
forth 1 will do openly. I will not share
even your kisses with him or any man.
You must make your choice between us."
Gladys stands opoite to him, rooted
to the spot by the vehemence of his words.
"Choose between you and Mountcar
ron." she falters.
"Yes, choose between Mountcarron and
me," he repeats. "Kitber stay at Car
ronby and be bis wife, or leave Carronby
forever and be my wife. Y'ou cannot keep
both of us!"
"Oh, Jemmie," she says, sobbing, "I
cannot lose you!"
At thiB assertion, and the sound of her
tears, Mr. Brooke's mood completely
changes. All the fire and the vehe txnoe
die out of his face, and there is nothing
left there but a look of triumph and over
whelming tenderness. He draws nearer
to the weeping girl and takes ber in bis
arms.
"I knew it," he says, with a long-drawn
sigh of relief. "I knew that your heart
would speak for itself. No, yon cannot
lose me, Gladys, and I cannot lose you.
How we have suffered this past fortnight.
What would it be to spend a lifetime
apart from one another? Think how
young we both are, and what a long vista
of years, in all probability, stretches out
before us. Picture to yourself, rising in
the morning without the prospect of
meeting during the day, and lying down
at night without a hope for the morrow.
G!dys, it would kill us. It would be a
triai beyond human endurance."
"Oh, yes. I cannot cannot lose you,"
she repeats, clinging closely to bim.
"Then listen to me, dearest. The sooner
this struggle is over the better. I shall
have no jieace now till I have taken you
beyond his reach. No, don't sob so, dear,
and tremble. Of what are you afraid?
Do you think my arms are not strong
enough to defend you? That my heart is
not a sure enough haven that my love
is too weak to keep and wear tbat which
I won?"
"No, no! only it is so sudden, and 1 am
frightened."
"Yon shall never feel fear again when
yon have given me the right to protect
you, Gladys. But try and understand
what I am about to say to you. To-morrow
morning you will receive a note from
Elinor, asking you to come over and stay
a couple of days at Nutley, which will giye
you the opportunity to send over wha'
luggage you may reqnire to take with
you in a light cart, which I shall be on
the lookout for, and see unladen, without
exciting suspicion from the house. At
three o'clock are you listening to me,
darling V
"Yea, yes, Jemmie'"
"At three o'clock I will be at this gate
the one by which you have just catered.
If yon can walk throngb the park to Join
ma so much the better if not, yon moat
drive round by the rdad. and when yon
reach tj point I will meet yon', aa If by
accident, and Invite yen to walk the real
of the war, and we will sead taw carriage
back.to Carrsaby. I will have aaoOsar
ready far yea jaat retted the tamer, and
we will go striigbt to Avliuer-it will be
safer than taking the train at t'armuby.
whre e m!g!.t meet pome hup who
knows n and theni-e to Lmd..li. ami tie
in rtuiig after shall see us safely lauded
in Pans. Will that suit you, Gladys?"
be asks, iu com-lusiou.
"Anything." she murmurs, "so I am
with you."
"Oh. my durliig!" he excla'nied pas
sionately, "you shall never regret the ac-ritii-e
yon make for nie. We will lie si
happy. Gladys. Think of the long days
spent together always together in
France, or Italy, or Spain on the shores
of the Adriatic, or in the isles of the
Mediteranean Sea wherever your fancy
may dictate to you, it will make no dif
ference to Die, so long as yoa are mine,
and 1 am with you."
"I will not keep you waiting, darling.
I will come."
"Good-by, my own angel," he says,
with a last kis; "after to-morrow there
shall be no tears."
CHAPTEB VIII.
The promised letter from Lady Kenton
arrives at breakfast time. Gladys, pale,
hollow-eyed and nervous, feels like a
criminal as she takes it in her hand.
"Who is that from?" demands Mount
carron, looking up from his buttered toast
ani pigeon pie.
'Only a note from Klinor. She asks
me to spend a few days at Nutley, but
but I shall not go."
"You had mucfi better go, iny dear.
Y'ou're looking a perfect ghost. The
change will do you good. Don't forget
we go to Ixmdon the first week in May,
and I want you to look your best for
the season. Why, I haven't trotted you
out anywhere yet, aud you have to do we
credit, you know."
"I will try," she answers, with a faint
smile. But she sends no answer to Iady
Benton's letter. Nor does any light cart
take luggage over to Nutley in the course
of the morning.
It will 1m- time enough to explain all
that, she thinks, when she meets Jemmie
in the park. At thn-c o'clock she nalks
to the place appointed, shivering as if she
hud the ague. Mr. Brooke is there be
fore her, bis handsome face Hushed with
the pleasures of anticipation. As soon
as he pen-civ e the direction ill which
she is advanc ing he hastens to meet her.
"My darling girl! How good of you to
tie so punctual. Everything is ready.
Gladys. Two minutes will take us to
the carriage. But how is it that you
sent no luggage over to Nutley? Has it
gone to the station? I have been looking
out for it all the morning."
"Yes no." says Lady Mount. -arron,
sinking down upon the Ixivers' Seat.
"But, oh. Jemmie. wait one moment.
Don't go just jet. 1 want to speak to
you first."
She is so ghastly pale, and the lines
which betoken her night's vigil are so
apnpreut beneath her eyes that Mr,
Brooke, regarding her. he.-omes alarmed.
"Are yon ill. dearest? How white you
are, and how you tremble! Oh. Gladys,,
surely you are not afraid to come with
me. indeed, yon need not be. for I will
defend you with the last drop of my
blissl to my life's end."
"1 am not afraid," she stammers, "but
but my father!"
"What of your father?"
"I cannot consent to leave my father."
goes on Indy Monntcarron, hurriedly.
"It would break bis heart to hear I had
done this thing. And you know it is
wrong. Jemmie. very very wrong. We
shall be a disgrace to everybody, and
there will be a divorce and just think
what your sister will say, and Mount
carron, and all the world, and
'Do you mean me to understand tbat
you have changed your mind?" asks Mr.
Brooke, in a low voice.
"Oh, no. I shall never change my
mind I shall always love you! How
could I leave off loving you? But to run
away together! It will be such an awful
scandal. And I was only married ten
mouths ago."
She nestles her face against hi, and
tries to kiss him. Hitherto she has found
a kiss a panacea for every woe. But Mr.
Brooke pushes her face angrily away,
and moves from his position.
Ixcve me alone. 1 don't want your
protestations or your kisses. I want
nothing from you but what yoa have re
fused to give me. I told you yesterday
that I should leave Carronby with or
without you; I repeat that assertion now.
Tnere can be no shilly-shallying be
tween you and me any more. If you can
not make up your mind to resign that
pcfcious thing, your coronet, for my
sake "
Oh, Jemmie. how unkind you are.
when I tell you it is the thought of my
poor father."
Your precious coronet and title, he
goes on smiling; "then we must part for
ever, there is no alternative, Gladys. 1
will have all of you or none."
Oh. how cruel how very cruel you are
to me!"
'You hate made me cruel. Y'ou have
made me feel as if I could kill you where
you stand. But I will not reproach you
further. You are too weak too false
even for my regrets. Good-by. Gladys,"
be says suddenly, rising. "Y'ou have
raised a devil in me. Remember, that
whatever happens now lies at your door."
'Oh, Jemmie. she screams, "do not
leave me like this. Speak one word to
me only say one word of kindness. I
cannot cannot let you go, like thi."
tsnc tnrows nerseii upon tne rustic seat
in an agony of grief, but Mr. Brooke does
not retrace his steps to comfort her. On
the contrary, she hears him slam the
park gate behind him and hasten down
the road. And then Lady Mountcarron
knows that he has gone, really gone from
her as he sa himself forever and she
abandons herself to a feeling very like
despair.
About nine o clock in the evening, Jem
mie, after wandering iu the wood all
day, returns home, and startles his sister
with the new that he is going to leave
the country at once.
With a woman's shrewdness, she draw
from him a confirmation of what she has
recently suspected, namely, tbat he was
in love with a married woman, and tbat
woman' identity she easily guessed.
She put no obstacle in his path; in faot.
recommended bim to go to Alexandria, in
Egypt, where a cousin of her late hus
band, Charlie Kenton,-was lying very ill
of consumption. To please her be con
tented to do tbia. He would leave by the
flrt train in the morning, and go to
Brindlai, where he would take the ateescr
which aailed the following Friday for
Alexandria. He kitaet her and pntbet
her gently toward the door, at be tpeakt,
and Lady Beaton knowt It would be oae
leat to retitt. Her brother la but a boy,
with all a bor't high aplrlt and rtckUat
daring, bat he haa the strong trill af a
mau. aud his sister has been made to feet
it on more than uue ocrasiok. although
there are tin years between them.
CIIAPTEU IX.
Mar has srrlved. the Karl and Countess
of Monntcarron have takeu up their qnar
ter iu their town bonne in Berkeley
siuare. and the festivities of the season
le-gin. Ball succeeds ball and d oner
succeeds dinner, and the days re fii!-d
op with boating parties, garden parties,
lawn tennis parties and afternoon recep
tions. As win as her court duties are con
cluded Gladys rushes from pla.-e to plac
feverishly happy outward!y--inteusi-,'y
miserable at heart; but resolved to d:itl'-e.
and to disie. and to it, until she has
danced, and dined, and ti.ricd .1.. urine
Br.e.ke back to his old position of friend
and cousin, and freed herself from the
Is. mis in which he has entangled her
Never was there a more euthus. astir
pleasure-seeker than the beautiful Lady
Mountcarron never a hostess luon
toitght after, and followed, and admired
never a more consistent worshiper ai
folly's fane! And yet she grows more
holloH-eyed and hectic-looking every
day. Strangers who see l.er f.ir the !ir
time vote her beautiful, but add: "Hon
very delicate she looks!" Her father
and ber sister remonstrate with her o:i
hi r reckless disregard of health ati-1
strength, but still she rushes on her wild
career, allowing herself no time for rest,
or thought or retrospection. The fact is.
Gladys, who did not find her love strong
enough to outbalam-e the advantage of
her position, is indignant that the unwel
come intruder refuses to accept the fiat
of banishment which she passed upon it.
and keeps iis place, regardless of ber
wishes or her feelings. She cannot stamp
It out nor tread it out. nor drive :t out
There it remains, through dances, and
dinners, anil drives-indelibly seated on
its throne of light -a glorious radiate-'-shed
amid the gloomy surroundings of lo r
nrt:!ii inl life. The ssir child lovi al
liiit lues in the strongest, bitterest,
gbidii'-nt sernc of the word - loves for
ever.
T i be continued.)
The )-lricli l eatlier Industry.
As Is well known, feathers, espccln '.h
thoKe'of the dri li. lire used mole frn:t
year to year us pirnltiire r,,r hats ami
drc-Ko-ji. The color wnlc of the P,-;ris
syndiitil i-hanilsT gl-tlers in nil tie
glirin-.' colors of the rainbow. :n:l ;i
number of chnngea hie ones m re inc.r
jN-irnhil likewise, all of which juv ap
plliil to feathers.
Vieinin and Berlin strive with c.-ii-ii
other for the control of til
ostrich-
fcntlicr market. The Vli im.i m:iiiiif;ii
ttircrs are adepts; In the art of itnjKir;
Ing aji excellent appearance to even
me oiii raw mHierini. luven Mil- so- 1
cailed Knadonniis Ho. llrv .(.... ,.r , i,
tail f.-atlietx of the young ostrich, which
are of inferior value, thev understand
they mulei-staiu!
how- to Isiuitlfy by dyeing and plating'
ns if tbej were prime No. 1. By plat
lug means the patching together of sin
gle piecm to obtain, a full tlrxt-cla:;
feather, and nlmoKt every feather, cum
the c-oMllcttt. ia plaited. This applies
iriiwljmlly to the feat hem of Vienna
"manufa.-ture."
The Berlin ware, however, iy still
honest, and for this n-as-iu its manu
facturers have-a difficult siri'.. -'fi. I
tlione of Vienna. The Berlin manufac
turers thoroughly understand the
bleaching, dyeing, ntc-imlng and curl
ing of the feathera, and Istddew they
use a superior raw material.
It Is astonishing to read of the quan
tity of oorrieli feather annually iw -I
lu the clvlli7.ed world. Ncwspajs-r ar-th-le
Komet linos speak in exalted t-rms
of the rocoVi time, with It extensive
use of feather by rich and noble
ladles, but the total amount uwl at
that time fadi-s from view when com
pared to that used at prcxent. The data
of the six annua auction wiles he!d in
Mvhm In IK'H show that In all of them
.'KW.774 iKiundu were dimwd of at a
value of 5q,ooo. Philadelphia Times,
Relinked by a Heathen.
Mme. Vang yu. wife of the Chim-e
minister at Washington. ls& a very
bright woman. iM-iides Ix-ing a very
pretty one from the Chinese point of
view. Her ri-jwirtJ-e is something In
cisive, and she has managed more than
once to vanquish high society Indfiw
who thought themselves vastly her su
perlor In every way. She drese iu
exquisite taste. In Chlneae twlume. of
course. She pinches ber feet, bo be
sure, trr she is a jssir heathen, or at
least i only tinctured with our civiliza
tion. Of course one or two American
women pinch their fort, too. to say
nothing of waists; but they are not
lien then, so It is all tight. Mrs. Vang
Yu was attending the reception of a
cabinet officer' wife the other day.
"Please tell her that I think she lias a
very pruty gown." said the hostess to
the Interpreter. The Interpreter repeat-
cd the message to bis mlHtretw, who re-
torted quickly, "And I think your gown
would 1 very pretty If you did not
squeeze yourself so at the waist." Mrs.
Yang Yu may take delight In lashing
these fine iadie for their follies and
barbarisms.-Pathflndei.
Solitude In Arctic Region.
Some curious delaJIa of life in Die
polar regions have Im-cii obtained from
member of the Nausea expedition,
They all dwell on the feellnga of do-
light which they experienced in once 1
more meeting oiuer numan IXMIIg. SO j
tired did they become of seeing the
aauie face and hearing the same
voices, day after day, that In the end a
feeling of Irritation waa produced.
Finding It almost ImpoHNlble to endure
the sight of one another, they would
act off on long walka over the Ice, each
man by himself. It waa an astounding
thing, one man said, to see his com
rade striding away over the Ice from
the ship, each In a different direction,
and caefully avoiding his fellow.
Rbe Deareat, am I the first girl you
ever loved? He Little eweetheart, tbt
man who could look Into tboae truatlnc
blue eye and tall a faleehood la not fit
to live. Bo prapw jc aaelf to near tlx
troth. ' Ton ajtLOtaeUaatl atoQalraii
Wmmm
- V I.
The Farmers and the Hluhwnrs.
Iltirlti the last two weeks meetings
have Im-cu held In different pans of the
State to protest against the renewal of
the State liun-au of Highways, lteso
Itltions have been adopted, and legisla
tors have been petitioned to vote
against any bill continuing the bureau
in existence. These tiN-clings nud ieti
tii.ns have emanated from farmers.
Tbat fanners should olijm-t to the
bureau Is ditlictilt to under
stand. The farmern would be the chief
IsMieflclaries, were the titiggestioiis of
the bureau carried out. If the roadway
connecting a fanner's; property with the
ueiglilmring town, or with the point
w here be ships bis giHuls, should be fo
Improved tbat be call carry twice as
heavy a load on hi.s wagon, or can
reach the market in oiie-balf of the time
now needed, it is evident that he lias
achieved tin tiaine result as If bis farm
bad been Ixxlily moved one-half the
distance toward the town, with n cor
resHindiiig Increase in Its value. He
market bis products to greater atHaii-
! tage, and saves, in the wear utnl tear of
hiifseticsli, wagons, ami harness.. The
proposed State highways, will relieve
the rural district from a inirtioii of
their taxes, inee the expense of con
struction and maintenance in to Iw de
frayed by a tax on the cities an well as
I upon outside binds.
j It is a ctuioiiH fact that throughout
I the country the movement in favor of
Improved highways has found Ita chief
j opponent among the fanners. This
i was the experience particularly iu New
' J'Tscy. In the southern part of that
; State I n large level tract of land, the
I soil of w hich Is sandy. It is inhabited
I by market-gardeners, who haul the
j produce from their small farms to I'liil-
adelphla. mid there sell it. I be roads
i w,'r' l,,,av-v "ml ""' ll:l'liK ditlictilt.
nl"J ""' mrnicr woiuu arise i-
fore daybreak, hitch their horses to the
j wagon that bad l-cii loaded over
: night, and drive slowly and jmitifully
to the market, which they would reach
1 aliotit night fall. The next day the
same toilsome Journey was reversed.
Several of the more enterprising resi
dents saw that there wan an extrava
gant waste of time and value In this,
and urged the (-(instruclion of improved
highways:. They were opposed In this
i by Ii-ks progressive, who were In the
j majority. There was no road building
( material within Icsh than two hundred
i miles, and they feared that the ex
pense of ko long a haul on the railroads
i would Ik- more than they could nie;t.
The good-roads advocates persevered,
however, and finally won the day.
i The first practical oM-mtloii for Im
proved highways began in Kssex Coun
ty, lu the northoaKtern part of the
Slate, more (ban twenty yearn ago.
That county, although only twelve
miles square, lias since built more than
two hundred miles, of fine telfoid and
macadam roads, many of them being
boulevards. The experience of Chester
Township, In Burlington County, Is lu-
tercsting, and typical of that elsewhere.
!a Mr. Harrison offered to build ten
! miles of good rock road for forty tliou-
sand dollars, provided they would Isind
the tnwii for tbat amount. In order to
secure the required vote In favor of ! he
Ismds. it was necessary to increase the
length of the road to eleven and one
half miles. This was done, and the
road constructed. The risk was
brought many miles by rail, and then
carted overland In wagons. In spite of
these difficulties:, Jir. Harrison turned
back $-2-' to the town treasury, so that
the road cost only nlsmt Jf.'i.Jif) a mils.
The road was built three years ago,
and there lias Is-i-u no expense for re
pairing since. The IhuhIs are Ix-lni;
pnld off at the rate of (l.tux) a year, so
the tax is insiguilicanl.
One farmer relates that lie lived two
miles from a stone road leading to
Camden. Two horses hauled his load
ed wagon to and from Camden along
the stone road; but when he reached the
two miles of road leading to his farm
It was necessary to double up his team,
and even then be often hail to throw off
a KirtloD of bis load In order to reach
the farm. It took blui longer nud was
more fatlgu'iiK to the team to come
over those two miles than to cover I lit
whole ten miles to Philadelphia. Be.
fore !he building, of tlic atone roads
twenty-flve biiskels of potatoes were
considered a load; now eighty-five or
oloi tillllitreil baskets fir cn rpl.,1 ..,,.1
two horses will liauj a combined weight
(,f wagon and load of four and one-half
foil.
The construction .f these improved
roads lias vindicated Itself In New Jer
sey, and the farmers, who formerly op
posed the movenent, are now Its
strongest advocate. A State law baa
Iwen enacted by which one-third of the
cost of construction ia met by a State
tax, while the cost of repairing must
Ik defrayed by the counties. If such
results have ls-cn accomplished in New
Jersey tinder such unfavorable condi
tion, what could not be accomplished
In this State? General Hoy Stone, the
I'Dlled State Commissioner of Bonds,
declare that California should have
he beat road In the Union. Bond ma
terial la abundant In every county of
the State, and la eaally acceaalbln.
Water for aprlokllng can be obtained
-e J I III. i 2tat. I ' i
without great exieue, and the condi
tions ior good roads exist here to tae
ame extent that they are lacking iu
New Jersey. The Stale Bureau of
Highways lias done g ! work iu point
ing out the ucfect 111 the jtp sent sys
tem; they will do far U-f'T work if
their duties are expanded a.id not con
tinued simply advisory. Sa:i I-'rawis-co
Argoiiaj'
"Running with the Loglne."
Laurence Hutton, In "A Boy I
Knew," in St. Nicholas, give some
glimpses of Isiyhood life In New York
iu the middle of the century. In the
January numlier, after describing a
private playground lu St. John's
Square, Mr. Hutton says
The old gardener, generally savage
defender of the place, who bad no
sense of humor as it was exhibited lu
Isiy nature, sometimes let the Isiy
rake the dead leaves into great heap
and make lni!ihres of them. If the
wind hapiM-ned to ! in the right direc
tion. And then what larks. The Isin
flre was a lioue on fire, and the great
garden-roller, a very heavy affair, was
"Ktigine No. 4L" with which the boy
ran to put the tire out.
They all shouted ns loudly and a un
necessarily as real firemen did; the fore
man gave bis orders through a real
trumpet, and one boy bad a real fire
man's hat with "Kngine No. -II!" on It.
He was chief engineer, but he did not
run with the machine; not because be
was chief engineer, but Is-cause while
lu active motion In- could not keep hi
bat nil. It was bis father's bat, and
its extraordinary weight was consider
ably increased by the wads of newspa
per pin ked in the lining to make It tit.
The chief engineer held the position for
life, on the strcngih of the hat. which
be would not lend to anylsidy else. The
rest of ilie company were elected, viva
voce, evciy time there was a lire.
This eiii. r-:i:nmciit came to an cud,
like everything i ise. when the gardener
chained the roller to the tool bonse.
after Bob Stuart fell under the ma
chine nud was tolled so tin I that lie bad
to be carried home on a strcti ber made
of overcoats tied together by the
sleeves. That is the only rei-ordcd In
stance In which the boys, particularly
Bob, left tin- park without climbing;
over. And the bells sounded a "gen
eral alarm. " The d'-nt made In the
path by Bob's body was on exhibition
until the next snow-storm.
How to ituifge Meats.
Many housekeepers liiol difllculty In
pun-basing the meats necessary in their
families, niid not until tlu-y are placed
upon the table are tin-it- defects mani
fest. A connoisseur gives a few hint
that may be of viiluc:
If the flesh of ox beef is young it will
have a fine, smooth, even grain. In- of
a g I red and feel tender. The fat
should look white, rather than yellow,
for when that is of a deep color the
meat is seldom good. The grain of cow
beef is closer and the fat whiter than
that of ox beef, but the lean is not of
so bright a red. The grain of bull leef
is closer still, the fat hard and skinny,
the lean of a deeji red ami a stronger
scent. Ox beef Is the richest and larg
est; in old meat there Is a streak of
horn In the ribs of biff; the harder
this Is the older, and the flesh is not
finely flavored.
Choose mutton by the firmness of Its
grain, color and firm, white fat. It Is
not the better for being young. If of
a good breed and well fed It is ln-tter
for age, this holding, however, only
with wether mutton. The flesh of the
ewe Is paler and finer than that of the
ram; the latter Is very strong llnvored,
the flesh of h deeper red and the fat
sisuigy.
In lamb the neck should be closely
examined; If the flesh Is bluelsh It Is
fresh, if it lias a green or yellow cast It
Is stale. This Is for the fore quarter
test. In the hind quarter. If there is a
faint smell under the kidney and the
knuckle Is limp the meat is stale. Grass,
lamb Is In season in April or May and
continues till August. House lamb
may bo had all the year, but In highest
perfection In December and January.
Itiic Noses in Favor.
In Japan the nose is the only feature
which attracts atttentloii. The tiose de
termines the beauty or ugliness of the
face, according as it is big or normal.
This U probably due to the fact that
difference In noses constitutes about
the only distinction between one Japa
nese face and Another. The eyes are
invariably black, the cheekbones high,
and the chin receding.
In Japan a lady who has a huge pro
boscis is always a great beauty and a
reigning lulle. There are few large
noses among the natives, and lucky is
he or she anon whom nature lavishes
one.
In all Japanese picture r"prcsenilng
Hie supposedly beautiful woman the
artist lii'-flriahly Improves on nature bv
deplotliif! this feature as abnormally de
vclopcd.
Cheee-ltlcli.
In Valols. Switzerland, n
cs. it Is said, are estimated according
to nie numiier 01 cneeses lie owns. By
a "cheese-rich" man Is meant one as
wealthy a Croesus. Said one ValoU
boy to a companion, "My father is a
checse-rlch man." "How many chees
es ha he?" said the other. "Oh, at
least so many, for we have Just made
a lot!" "Call him cheese-rich," said the
other, smiling contemptuously "why.
my father ha that number the year
round, and some of our are a hundred
years obi!"
Psychologies! Liquor KfToct.
Brandy, used habitually a a bever
age, is said to aggravate a tendency to
milclde. Kxcesslve beer-ilrlnklng pro.
(luce suicide Indirectly by disease of
the heart and liver productive of melan
choly. The dally supply of milk for the
New York market amount lo about
19,000. cant of milk, 170 can of coo
denaed milk and 40 cana of crata.
